


Faces in the Night

by Dalthrin



Category: Divinity: Original Sin (Video Games), Divinity: Original Sin 2
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post Game, Post Voidwoken war, Source For All ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 04:01:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21331948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalthrin/pseuds/Dalthrin
Summary: The war has ended, the Divine was no more, and Ifan ben-Mezd was finally free to enjoy the adventuring life without fates and gods constantly dogging his heels. Such a life, however, may sometimes take a darker turn than even the most tainted Voidwoken.
Relationships: Ifan ben-Mezd/Male Godwoken
Kudos: 7





	Faces in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> I came across this encounter while browsing Dungeon and Dragons on reddit, and thought it would also work quite well in a post-game Rivellon. All credits for the encounter's conception goes to Goblin Punch, and also to Larian Studio for creating DOS2. I own no characters, events or locations in this story.
> 
> **Some major plot-related events:**
> 
>   1. Source had been released for all in Rivellon.
>   2. The war against the Voidwoken has ended.
>   3. The Magisters have been disbanded, and Paladins now take their place all across Rivellon.

“Glory is mine!” Cried a voice as a dagger crackling with lightning came down on the troll’s head, piercing it like a spear through paper. Liquid Source spilled out of the monster, as all creatures were wont to do after all the Divine’s power was shared with the rest of the world. The great beast’s limbs twitched for a few seconds, then went limp at last.

Panting, the former Godwoken shakily rummaged his bag for a water skin, then hastily emptied it over his head to wash away all the troll blood. A few leaves rustled in the branches nearby, and then Ifan ben-Mezd dropped down from the canopy, with a bolt still notched and ready in his crossbow.

“Having fun?” He asked, un-notching Shadow’s Eye and hoisted it over his shoulder.

“Not as much as you are, I’m sure,” said Rolian, pulling his leather shirt over his head to squeeze it dry, “have a care where your eyes linger!”

“What, all the nasty stuff we’ve done on the Lady Vengeance, and you’re getting prudish now?” Ifan smirked shamelessly, even throwing in a whistle to push the other man’s buttons.

“We had just got out of a volcano and thought the world was ending; it was different,” Rolian squawked indignantly as he went to the corpse of the troll and yanked out his dagger, it was then that he noticed a rather impressive war axe embedded in the beast’s right arm.

Ifan walked up next to him and observed the weapon as well. “Why am I not surprised. And he was even kind enough to leave us a souvenir this time too.” Almost every single enemy they had slain recently have had injuries made from the same weapon, no matter which path they chose to travel. And now it seemed that very weapon was staring at them almost mockingly from the troll’s arm.

“This is really starting to get creepy,” replied the scholar, irritation plain in his voice. “I don’t think we can ignore it anymore. Maybe we can find a library or something in the next town to look up whatever this thing is.”

“Are you sure? You’re not just looking for an excuse to get inside a library or anything?” Ifan asked with a chuckle, although he was only half joking. “Right, let’s clean up and get a move on. You want a minute to loot around?”

“Nah, no need. This pile of meat got nothing but a few health potions anyway. You’d thing such a battle-hungry beast would have some kind of valuable weapon embedded on it or something,” Rolian said, gesturing at the empty corpse.

“Fair enough, let’s go then. Maybe we can get to the next town before it’s dark.”

********

A few hours later, they came to Greenthatch, a small town nestled on the slopes of the Dragon’ Spine Mountains. It looked average enough, with a tavern, a few shops, and a few large buildings Rolian assumed were the Paladin barracks. Some people were seen walking about in the streets, but the town as a whole seemed a bit empty.

He tapped a man on the shoulder and asked, “Excuse me, sir, where can we find the head Paladin here?”

“I’m sorry, stranger, but we have no Paladins here in Greenthatch. We’ve never had one, in fact.”

“Ok… then what’s that big building over there?”

“Oh, that’s… well that’s the Paladin barracks. But no Paladin has ever lived there.”

“Then who does?”

“I… I don’t know. No one,” said the man, visibly more flustered now. “I’m… I’m sorry, I have to go-” his voice was suddenly cut off as a hand gagged his mouth from behind, then an elf grappled him and pinned him in place.

“Stay still, we won’t hurt you,” the elf said with Ifan’s voice, then he held up the man’s right arm and gave it a long, vigorous lick.

“He’s telling the truth,” Ifan said while letting the man go. He hurriedly bolted down the street while shouting obscenities at their group. “Which doesn’t make any sense, I might add,” he said, taking off the Mask of the Shapeshifter.

“So… raid the building?”

“For once, I don’t think it’s a good idea. It’s getting late, and we’ve been traveling all day. I say we get in the tavern and call it a night. We can try and investigate more tomorrow.”

“It’s getting late? When has that ever stopped you?”

“When there’s obviously some kind of supernatural… thing that’s been dogging us for at least the past few weeks. If we’re confronting it I’d rather we do it properly rested.”

“You’re making sense now? Ok now I’m sure it’s the end times,” Rolian said with a laugh, but he followed his boyfriend to the tavern nonetheless.

The tavern was run by an elderly couple, and apparently they had been owning it for twenty years. The pair served their food and chatted with the party amicably enough, and Rolian found himself relaxing a little. He even laughed when the landlord retold the story of his wife finding women’s clothes in their house, and accused him of having an affair. The misunderstanding was settled when both agree the outfits were too numerous for any mistress, and the coupled deciding they probably belonged to a visiting relative.

As they retired for the night, Rolian suggested they took turns sleeping to keep watch, and Ifan agreed. He volunteered to take first watch and, after a brief kiss, Rolian went to bed knowing that he could trust Ifan with his life.

********

“Anything interesting while I was out?”

“Well, I’ve discovered how many floor tiles this room has, if that counts,” Rolian said with a yawn. “Come on, let’s head into town and see-” his voice cut off as he noticed, for the first time, another bag sitting right next to theirs.

“That... that was not here last night, was it?” Rolian spoke first after a tense silence.

“No. And nothing came into the room last night, we kept watch.”

“Well, we can’t just stare at a leather sack all day. I’ll check it out, ready you crossbow.”

To their surprise, the bag did not explode or spray them with acid as he touched it. It seemed to belong to a typical adventurer: equipment, traveling clothing and the like. Perhaps it was even owned by a cleric, containing quite a number of health potions and Restoration scrolls. On further inspection, however, Rolian discovered a few letters at the bottom.

“These are all from the same person, addressed to a… Paladin Thom Hardwin? Correspondences between him and his wife, perhaps. Wait, Ifan, there’s your name in here!”

“What? Let me see… what the hell? I never served with anyone named Thom Hardwin during the war! And what’s this business in Driftwood they’re talking about?”

“Beats me, I never met any Paladin named Thom in Driftwood. Wait, this one is written by a different person!”

The final letter in the pile was made with a visibly higher quality of paper, and the language was definitely from someone of status.

“_Dearest brother,_

_I must confess that I do not know this ‘Meredith’ person you speak of so frequently in your letters. Was she a friend of yours? For I am certain I live with no one else, same as I have been since I transferred here. True, I have come across several articles of clothing in my house that definitely belonged to women, but surely they were mere leftovers from my dalliances (of which I am sure you have lengthy lectures for me, but come now, I am but a young lad with needs.)_

_Perhaps this confusion of yours runs in the family? Because I too am vexed with doubts and concerns of my own. A great cloud of uncertainty lies on my heart, as if desperately urging me to do something I had forgotten, but I have found naught that was out of place. The anxiety gnaws at my thoughts, nonetheless, and more than once have I found myself gasping awake from nightmares of pale faces and gnashing teeth._

_I… I am afraid, brother. I needed to put on a brave face for the townsfolk, but they too seem haunted by whatever phantasm that seized my thoughts. The number of empty houses increased day by day, as if everyone just decided to build them then leave overnight. The other morning I saw dear Miss Thatcher on her knees in front of her house, sobbing inconsolably amidst a pile of men’s clothes. Yet she claimed to have no knowledge of what or whom that had distressed her so. No matter where I go, I feel exposed, vulnerable, like a deer caught in the eyes of a great predator. I would not deny that a visit from you would ease me greatly, and perhaps together we can solve whatever that is plaguing Greenthatch, and I may even get to know your friend Meredith._

_Your brother, ever faithfully,_

_Paladin Greg Hardwin._”

The two sat on their bed, staring at the letter but unable to wrap their minds around it. The unease instilled by the town from last night seemed to have returned with a vengeance.

“We need to go, NOW. Let’s head to the Paladin’s barracks to find this… Greg Hardwin person.” Ifan said suddenly with a jolt, as if waking from a trance.

“Yes, let’s go. And take those letters with us.”

The two hurriedly packed and headed downstairs. They were again greeted by the warm smile of the innkeeper.

“Morning to you, lads. ‘Scuse me for not being a proper host, but making breakfast for a whole inn ain’t easy for an old man to do by himself.”

Rolian does a double take. “By yourself? Why isn’t your wife helping you?”

“What are you talking about? I’ve never been married.”

“WHAT?!”

**Author's Note:**

> I have tried to import a D&D concept as compatibly as possible to DOS2 mechanics and lore, but I'm sure there are still mistakes, so feedback and criticism are welcome! Also, if you recognize what is happening in this chapter, please do not spoil it! The discovery is one of the best aspects of this encounter.


End file.
